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Once I am done, I study myself in the mirror, pleased at the brilliant sheen of my scales beneath the soft glow of the l’sair crystals that light the room. I extend my wings, wincing slightly at the sharp pain in my left wing joint.
I blow out a frustrated sigh. It is improved from before, but not enough for me to fly yet.
When I move back into the room, Freyja is standing by the window, watching the blizzard outside. I move up behind her, but she does not turn around. In the reflection of the glass pane, her gaze is fixed and unfocused as she rubs her hands over her arms as if to warm herself against the slight chill seeping in through the crack in the windowsill.
“Everyone was curious about us downstairs.” She runs a hand through her long, red locks. “This might as well be a beacon,” she grumbles, turning to face me. “My hair has always been a curse.”
“A curse?” I’m completely taken aback by her statement. Gently, I hook a stray tendril with one claw, allowing the silken strand to trail over my forefinger before returning my gaze to hers. “I would think this rare physical trait would be revered; not frowned upon. Why do you say this?”
“I was the subject of relentless teasing when I was a child because of it. And these—” She gestures to the spots on her skin.
“Our scales come in many colors, but red is the most desirable because of its scarcity.” I touch her face, careful to retract my claws so that I do not scratch her petal-soft skin as I trace my first two fingers across her cheek, observing in wonder as a pink bloom highlights the many small spots that dot her flesh. “And those with more than one color are even more scarce, revered as treasures to behold.” I stare deep into her luminous eyes, the color of clear, blue skies. “You are rare among your people, Freyja. And it is a compulsion of my kind to covet rare things.”
My gaze travels over her delicate features. Gently, I tuck a stray tendril of silken hair behind the curved shell of her ear, pleased when she does not pull away. I’d always believed no other race could rival the beauty of the Fae or the Elves, but as I study Freyja, I realize that I was wrong.
CHAPTER21
FREYJA
My heart hammers as his emerald eyes stare deep into mine. There is something fierce and intense in the way he looks at me. As if he means to possess me entirely: body, mind, heart, and soul.
He leans in, and I remain still, frozen in place as awareness hums in my veins. A maelstrom of emotions swirls deep within. Part of me wants to pull him in closer, while another wants to push him away. The smell of spice and ginger fills the air around us and I have the strange urge to press myself against him and breathe deeply of the heady mix, but I force myself to stay in place.
It’s as if he has a strange power over me, and I cannot force myself to avert my gaze as I study him. His face is sharp lines and hard angles—extremely handsome, but in an Otherworldly way. He is almost too perfect to be real—masculine perfection. His powerful form towers over me, but I am not afraid. He could easily harm me if he wished, and yet he has been nothing but gentle.
His eyes search mine, their vertically-slit pupil expanded so that only a thin rim of green is barely visible around the edges.
Completely mesmerized, I lift my hand to his face, wanting more than anything in this moment to touch him. To trace my fingers over the smooth scales of his cheek and down to his lips. I want to know if they are soft and pliable, or hard and unforgiving like the stern expression he presents to the world. The one I know hides the Dragon who is so gentle with me, underneath.
A loud moan echoes from the room next door, breaking the spell, and I quickly retract my hand.
Aurdyn clears his throat. “You should rest, Freyja. We still have far to travel.” He moves back to the fire, stoking the flames.
When I curl up beneath the thin comforter, I’m exhausted, but I cannot rest. Not like this. Despite the fire burning in the hearth, there is still a chill in the room, but that is not what keeps me awake. It’s the thought of what might have happened if we had not been interrupted.
Am I truly falling for this Dragon who has appointed himself as my fiercely loyal protector?
The bed dips behind me as Aurdyn gets beneath the blanket. He drapes his strong arm over my waist and tugs me back against him, his familiar warmth and ginger spice scent enveloping me as he curls his wing around my form like a heavy blanket.
A small sigh of contentment escapes me as I revel in his warmth and reassuring presence at my back.
He tightens his hold on me and my heart pounds, not from fear but from something else entirely. “Are you warm enough?” His voice is a low rumble in my ear, sending a small shiver of pleasure down my spine.
“Yes,” I whisper, my voice breathless. “Thank you.”
Despite my previous exhaustion, I’m wide awake. My entire body hums with the awareness of how close we are to each other. Desperate to focus on something else, I change the subject. “How long do you think it will take to reach your home?”
“At least two days.” He sighs heavily. “If not for my injury, we could fly and be there in a matter of hours.”
“Must be nice,” I offer. “Being able to fly everywhere.”
“It is. Walking everywhere is… tedious.”
A soft laugh escapes me. “Well now you know what it’s like for the rest of us.”
“Indeed,” he grumbles.
“What will happen when we reach your kingdom?” I ask both anxious and dreading his answer. “Will I be the only human there?”
